


Winter's Match

by omnenomnom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Au- Fairy, EWE, F/M, Fred Weasley Lives, Fremione - Freeform, Fremione Fanatics' Spring Scenes Flash Fest 2021, Hermione is a fairy, Magic, Spring, fae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29807913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omnenomnom/pseuds/omnenomnom
Summary: A stolen stroll, to Pucks delight,Magic and mischief dance at midnightA creaking Stair, a floor below.Followed in stealth, by moonlit glow.A secret revealed on shining wing,Winter folds to the coming of spring.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley
Comments: 19
Kudos: 59
Collections: Fremione Fanatics Spring Scenes Flash Fest





	Winter's Match

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moonfairy13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonfairy13/gifts).



> I don't know what this is. I don't know why I made it other than being unable to find any Hermione!Fairy AU's but here we are. 
> 
> This is a mix of me being sick of winter, Shakespeare, the purchase of some flower bulbs and my lack of creativity.
> 
> A one shot that should be a long fic but never will be. Warning, I don't love it but hope you do.
> 
> Prompt is: Moonfairy. No just seriously. Her name. That's it.

Fred woke well into the night, his ears always sensitive to the sounds of mischief. The Burrow was filled with the snores and the other night time sounds he had come to recognize as home. George was laying a few inches from him (a consequence of mum’s mulled wine and too many Weasleys to fit in separate beds anymore) curled against the wall and muttering in his sleep.

Fred heard the stairs creak again and contemplated waking up his twin but ultimately decided against it. Sleep was so rare for his brother nowadays and more frequently than not Fred would wake to find George curled up on his bedroom floor or resting at the foot of his bed. When asked about it, George would just insist that he had slept-walked and Fred never pushed. As the months since Fred's very near death slipped away, the behavior had deescalated but it still made a full night of rest for his twin fairly rare. 

Carefully, Fred untangled the sheets from his body and silently crept from the room, following his sense of trouble making to locate the culprit. The house was still completely unaware so that knocked Ron and Ginny out of the running. They were both terribly clumsy and had never learned to avoid the trick step at the bottom that woke mum like an alarm clock. Percy would never deign to be awake past ten and while Bill would, he was a dad to a newborn now and asleep as soon as he could make it to the pillow.

So that left Harry. Fred smiled, hopping the security stair with ease, pausing at the bottom landing while the culprit shuffled around in the kitchen. Fred was planning to startle the younger boy by jumping out from the shadows but was trying to think of the best way to do so without getting hexed.

Suddenly he heard the distinct sound of the garden door open. Fred frowned, waiting until the soft click of the latch signaled its closure before sneaking into the kitchen. He glanced at the cloak rack, not seeing anyone's missing. The last blanket of snow could still be seen from the kitchen window, reaffirming the chill.

Not one to be deterred by the weather, Fred snatched his cloak and threw it on before spiriting out of the door on silent feet. He was immediately met with the bracing chill of the dying grasp of winter. It always seemed like the season clung in Britain, never letting go all of the way until spring showed up in full force.

“What in the buggering hell?” Fred muttered looking at the well worn garden path, the snow cleared away to the apparition point. But past that, a thin coating of snow remained perfectly undisturbed by footprints of the wizarding sort.

He scratched his head as he thought about this mystery, wondering if he was about to get pranked. If they had apparated he would have heard it and the path only led to the house and around the garden… perhaps they had a broom?

Suddenly, a wave of  _ something _ prickled against his skin. It felt warm and inviting, carrying the promise of warmth and life on the breeze before it disappeared. He turned his head toward the source, a corpse dense trees out by the orchard.

Fred set off in a daze as that wonderfully comforting feeling grew stronger. Each step felt surer, every worry melting away with ease. The full moon hung above him, guiding his way like an old friend, happy to have him returning home.

He dodged around the branches he had been familiar with since childhood with an unfamiliar single mindedness. Forward. Keep going. Nearly there.

Fred pushed his way onward until he could practically see the magic sparking at his fingertips. His hair stood on end and his breath was coming in short pants, on the very edge of something huge. With one final step he broke through the dense trees into a clearing. 

He remembered discovering it with George when they were very young. At the time it had been bursting with greenery and wildlife. Mushrooms had dotted the floor and the air had carried an unidentified sweetness on it. They spent much of the summer lying in the grass and watching clouds while planning their next great prank. But eventually war and life overtook their summers and he had all but forgotten about the spot. Until now.

That same sweetness hung in the air but it looked wholly different in the dead of winter. Snow covered the ground and all that was left of the greenery were skeletal remains. The bare limbs of bushes clawed at nothing and dead leaves rustled underfoot.

And standing there in a dragging, impossibly light, silver dress with a shockingly low cut back was Hermione. She was seemingly unbothered by the cold against her bare feet and skin as she glided forward, not so much as leaving a footprint in the snow. 

Fred hadn’t even considered her on his suspect list when he made it, assuming one so rigid was not made of the stuff needed for sneaking. But there she was, her face turned up to the moon, a soft smile on her lips and her eyes shut peacefully.

It clawed at him, drawing him in. Some part of his mind told him to approach her. But the larger part cautioned him to wait, to watch and listen as something was about to happen.

And something was happening indeed. The magic continued to swell, building into a soft breeze. The wind swept through the clearing, picking up the old, dead leaves and whipping them away. The feeling built, even pulling at Fred’s own magic as it went, dancing across his skin and hair. He didn’t even mind the hollow feeling of exhaustion as it pulled away from him, watching it build higher and higher until the air became difficult to breathe.

Just as Fred was worried he was about to pass out there was a second where everything stilled. The sounds of nature were silent and the air seemed to be frozen in this perfect moment where the only thing that existed was him, Hermione, and magic.

As quickly as it had all stopped, there was a flash of light. Fred was knocked back by a blast of magic against his chest that made his heart skip a beat and his vision spot. He closed his eyes, trying to weather the overwhelming sensation.

His senses assaulted him; the sound of the first chicks out in the hen house, the scent of the hyacinths coming up in the garden, the green of the first buds of leaves on the trees. The images and memories kept coming until he was sure he was going to drown in them.

When he finally felt the magic dull to a calming wave rather than a raging thunderstorm he chanced opening his eyes.

Hermione was still standing in the clearing but it was unrecognizable. The snow had all been whipped away and fresh grass had begun to peak it’s way up from the dirt, growing taller by the second. Early spring flowers sprung up from the ground as if they had been waiting all this time to make a showy entrance. And standing in the center of a ring of mushrooms was Hermione, perfectly at peace and lowering her hands. 

Wings; massive, stained-glass wings unfolded from her back, catching the breeze. The moonlight glinted in a pearlescent sheen as they fluttered experimentally, shifting through the colors of the rainbow.

Fred gaped dumbly at the girl he had known for years trying to put together the pieces. While he was still trying to figure it out she began to move, her wings fluttering with each step making her appear to be walking on air. She had always moved with a lightness that he had credited to years of carrying around heavy books but now he could see it for that natural grace it was.

Each footprint called up more growth and soon she was reaching out to touch the various plants and trees as they passed through the orchard, encouraging them back to life Fred had no idea how long he followed, silently watching her rouse the land after a long winter's night. 

As they drifted further from the clearing the effect became less dramatic, falling to the more subtle signs of spring he had come to know as a child. By the time she made it to the garden there was only a simple wave of her hand, the snow melting quickly before just the barest hint of hyacinth bulbs began to break the soil.

Fred smiled. His mother always counted the first day of spring from the first emergence of the bulbs, promising that warmer weather was on it’s way. He and George had spent many hours scouring the garden at the end of winter, wanting to be the first one to find it.

So lost in his memory, Fred neglected to notice Hermione drifting closer to his hiding spot until she passed directly beside him. He froze as she blinked at him, her wide, earth eyes surprised and confused. For a moment he had the mad idea to kiss her. To do something to show his appreciation for this great magic she had performed.

But then her face contorted to one of fear and panic. His arm shot to her wrist but she was too quick, turning on heel and charging towards the trees. 

He followed without hesitation, ignoring the mud and water splattered on his pajamas as he went. She slipped through the trees gracefully, not leaving so much as a hint of her presence. But thankfully, he was faster, with longer legs and years of experience running through the orchard. Still, it was all that he could do to catch the barest glimpse of her wings as she ran.

When he finally broke into the clearing again, he was panting and mud covered. His eyes found her immediately, noting that the long hem her dress was still perfectly white and her skin was unmarked by the chase. He almost whined when he realized her wings were gone, replaced with the same girl he had known for the past seven years but with fear sparking in her eyes.

“F-Fred?” she stuttered. “What are you doing out here?”

“I could ask you-” he paused remembering the ridiculousness of the situation. “Actually I could ask a lot of things. Are you done running? Because this is pretty much the opposite of the light exercise that I am suppose to be doing.”

“Oh Godric!” Hermione cried, rushing forward to catch him just as he collapsed. The muscles in his legs twitched at the exertion and his chest constricted tightly. He had known he was pushing what his still healing body could do but at the time he didn’t care. Now well…

“Buggering fuck,” he wheezed, trying to get his chest to contract willingly. “Can your lungs cramp?”

“Well what did you think you were doing? Chasing me through the woods like that when you had only just been cleared to use stairs again,” Hermione chided, rubbing at his chest softly. She whispered something that he didn’t quite catch and Fred felt that warm wave of magic wash over his skin and sooth the pain enough that he could breathe again.

“What were  _ you _ doing running away from me?” he quipped back, selfishly enjoying the feeling of her magic surrounding him. Just like that it was gone and she pulled away quickly, her eyes wide with fear.

“You saw me,” she whispered as she scrambled away. 

“Course I did.” Fred pushed up on his hands. He started to stand but she flinched and he decided that perhaps sitting in the mud was a better option for them both. “If you're going to try to be a sneak, make sure there isn't someone better than you in the house.”

He smiled cheekily but she just quivered.

“You saw me,” she whimpered, wrapping her arms around herself.

Fred’s heart keened in a different way this time and against his better judgement he shifted closer. She seemed not to notice so he continued forward until he was able to come to a stop just short of her.

“I can pretend I didn’t,” he offered. 

“It doesn’t work that way Fred,” she breathed. “You’ve seen me. You know what I am. A secret I’ve hidden for years-”

“I don’t mind,” Fred promised immediately. He couldn’t help the way his eyes drifted to her shoulders, trying to picture the transparent wings that had been there moments ago. “Just because some fae are considered dark creatures doesn’t mean-”

“It’s not if you mind,” Hermione said, pulling away from him. “Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?”

“You’re still Hermione though! I’m sure you aren’t dangerous,” Fred insisted. Sure some of the fae could get a little… man-eaty but this was Hermione he was talking about.

“Of course _ I’m _ not dangerous! It’s the rest of you I worry about,” Hermione hissed, pinning him with that Prefect glare he hadn’t seen since his seventh year. He had always thought that she was at her most attractive when she was lecturing him but now he couldn’t help but wonder if it was some sort of fairy magic that was luring him in.

“W-what?” he asked after realizing he had been staring off into space.

“See you’re already thinking of me differently!”

“I am not!” Fred defended. “You’re still the same, swotty, rule-abiding Hermione I’ve always known. A pair of wings isn’t going to change that.”

“The wings?” Hermione responded blandly. She took a second before shaking her head clear. “Who cares about the wings? Wizards accidentally end up with wings all of the time! You just saw me call forth spring!”

“Wait?” Fred frowned, looking around the clearing. “Like… the whole season?”

“No Fred. Only half of it. Of course the whole season.”

“Well I’m sorry,” he spat. “I didn’t know it worked that way. Maybe you should be quieter when you sneak out to perform ancient rituals.”

“This isn’t a joke Fred!”

“Well I’m not saying it is,” he sighed running his hand through his hair. After a moment he risked resting a hand on her shoulder, feeling her pulse flutter violently just under the skin. “I just… don't understand why you’ve been hiding this Hermione. You know we don’t care about half-breeds or anything. We would still love you the same.”

“It’s not that-” she mumbled. After a moment she sighed looking up at the moon as if it was a traitor. “It’s just… How many fae do you know Fred?”

“Well none but-”

“How about how many you’ve heard about?” Hermione pushed.

“That’s not-”

“What about books? How many have you read about?”

“Oh!” Fred responded victoriously. He had an answer for that one. It had been one of his favorite plays as a child, even when it was only the local muggle school performing it. “A Dream in Summer.”

Hermione blinked slowly at him. “A Mid-Summer’s night dream? The muggle play?”

“Hey, you asked,” Fred defended. “It had fairies in it.”

“First off that play is hundreds of years old. Secondly it’s completely fictional.”

“Well how was I supposed to know,” Fred snapped. “I just discovered my little brother's best mate is a fairy! I thought I was doing quite well on the whole 'being accepting' situation!”

Hermione snarled but he held strong, eventually her heart rate slowed and he saw her anger ebb down until she chewed on her lip in self-doubt. “You’re right. I’m sorry Fred. You are taking this quite well.”

“Well that tends to happen when you grow up in a world where everything can be explained away by magic,” he joked. She smiled weakly but otherwise sat in silence. 

“So a fairy huh?” he asked finally. 

“Erm, yes.” Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly. “A spring fairy, in case it wasn’t obvious.”

“Wait, you summoned the whole season, right? Doesn’t that make you some sort of god? Like demi-God at least.” That actually drew a smile and she shook her head. “Like you’re in charge of ALL of spring. Do you hold out extra long if we all upset you? Is that why it was so bloody cold seventh year? Because you were titchy about the firsties?”

“No,” Hermione giggled. For the first time Fred noticed the lightness to it. It seemed to tinkle as she laughed, like the wind chimes on his mother’s back porch. “I’m not that powerful. Just your usual sort of spring fairy."

"I think we have different definitions of usual, Love." 

"Right sorry," Hermione sighed. "I can encourage it along but only in small areas at a time. And if I'm not here to do it, it’ll happen on it’s own. Just more slowly.”

“Thank Merlin,” he sighed. “I was getting sick of winter.”

He tried to laugh but it made his head spin. He felt drained and dizzy, more so than he had since he woke up. Just as he was about to fall back into the mud, Hermione caught him, awkwardly lowering him to rest on her lap.

“Fred are you alright? We should-”

“'m, fine,” he hummed as he relaxed against her legs. Her skin was warm and his body loosened immediately. “Just give me a minute.”

Hermione hesitated but nodded. Her hands remained awkwardly on his shoulder for another moment before releasing him to rest one against his forehead.

“You feel a bit hot.”

“Just tired,” he mumbled, focusing on the feeling of her skin on his. He had never noticed how very soft her skin was. Her hair looked soft too, wild with how it sprang around her. And her eyes if he was being honest. Big, and honey brown they always were open and ready to listen and help. “You’re so pretty. I always knew there was something special about you.”

Hermione blinked and a lance of panic shot through Fred. That was not what he had meant to say but then that warm fuzziness wrapped around his mind and couldn’t be bothered to care.

“You don’t mean that,” she sighed sadly. Fred sent her a questioning look but her eyes were locked onto where her hand had dug into his hair and was twisting around the strands. It felt bloody amazing.

“I do though,” he mumbled letting his eyes drift shut.

“You don’t. It’s… not real. It’s only because of what you've seen tonight that you think that.”

“Not true,” he hummed. “Thought it since fifth year when I saw you punch Malfoy while hiding from Filch on the roof.”

Hermione's movements paused but then she giggled and Fred relaxed again.

“That was a good hit wasn’t it?”

“Prat deserved it, whatever he did.”

They sat for a few minutes more in silence, both afraid to break the fragile peace. Finally Fred couldn’t stand it anymore, his curiosity getting the best of him.

“Do Ron and Harry know?”

“Um, no,” she murmured her hand tracing down the curve of his neck until he shivered. 

“Now I know my brother is pretty dense but how in Merlin’s name did he miss the massive butterfly wings on your back.”

“They’re moth wings,” Hermione corrected, tugging playfully at his hair. When he didn’t speak against she sighed and continued. “I can hide them most of the year. It’s just toward the very end of winter when it gets hard to resist the urge to do… well this. I thought I was safe after all the mulled wine everyone had drank but _apparently_ not everyone partook.”

Fred cracked open his eyes to find her glaring down at him.

“Healer’s orders,” Fred defended with a smile. “Interacts with my potions. I was wondering why you weren’t drinking.”

“Oh… I didn’t know you paid that much attention to me,” Hermione finished lamely.

“Of course I do. How could I not?” Fred hummed looking away to dig his hand into the newly grown grass. It was the impossibly soft carpet of green that only ever appeared on the first really nice days of march before the elements stiffened the blades. “You’re so vibrant and alive. You throw yourself into everything with a passion that I've never been fully convinced was human… apparently I was right.”

“I’m still human Fred… just as much as Fleur is.”

“Poor wording,” Fred corrected. “My apologies, my head is pretty fuzzy.”

“That’s probably my fault as well,” Hermione sighed, stopping her ministrations and helping him sit up. “It’s the magic. This close to spring it’s… a bit much. Even for me.”

“Well you’re always a bit much,” Fred grinned lazily. “But it’s one of your best qualities.”

Hermione huffed and crossed her arms. He thought he saw a glimmer of movement behind her but then it was gone. 

“Can I see them again?” Fred asked, his mouth turning traitor. Hermione's face snapped up to his, her mouth formed into a little ‘oh’. Immediately he blushed, feeling like he had requested something far too intimate. “I’m sorry. You don't have to-”

“No,” Hermione responded softly. “It’s fine. I understand being curious. I just… no one had ever seen them before and well… It caught me off guard. I don’t see any harm in it.”

Hermione turned, presenting him with her back. He sucked in a gasp as the area between her shoulder blades shimmered, the smooth skin of her spine all but glowing in the moonlight. As if canceling a disillusion charm, her wings unfurled in a ripple, the near-transparent material fanning into the air with a shiver. Once again, they caught the moonlight, sheening in a wave of pastel blues and greens with tinges of pink. The veins that provided structure to the stained-glass were silver and glinted as if coated in mercury. It was arresting.

His hand rose of its own accord, brushing at where the silvery base rooted in her skin before he could stop himself. It felt softer than velvet, like he had run his finger over a pile of powder sugar that held its shape. She sighed and he drew away quickly, cursing his own lack of awareness.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to...They’re just… entrancing,” he murmured.

“It’s… okay,” Hermione responded, her voice a bit breathless. “It feels nice. I- I can’t reach them and it hurts to keep them hidden so much.”

“So could I…” Fred trailed off when she nodded and lightly ran his finger down her spine from the top of her neck to the base of her wings, stopping just at her lower back. She shivered and let out a breathy sigh that surprised them both and Fred felt heat rise in his cheeks.

“Are you alright?” he asked, dragging his finger back up the path he had just taken, watching in fascination as her wings rippled.

“They’re just sensitive,” she mumbled.

Fred nodded and with great regret, pulling his hand away. It was harder than he thought it would be and the last dredges of magic pulled at his mind, trying to convince him to continue.  But then she turned to face him. 

She looked so adorable, biting her lip with her hand crossed in her lap even as the wings dwarfed her. Her eyes were wide and focused on the ground as she spoke.

“They’re freakish aren’t they?” she whimpered, the wings folded down with dejection. Fred scowled at the way they rested on the ground in defeat. He couldn't help but think that it was such a travesty for them to be soiled by the dirt and mud. “I hate that I can’t be normal.”

“Normal is overrated,” Fred responded roughly, reaching out to touch her. He drew her face up until her eyes met his, sparkling with doubt. “They’re the most stunning thing I have ever seen.”

“But I-”

“No buts,” Fred insisted, unable to resist the urge to swipe his thumb over her cheek. “It is just one more thing that makes you extraordinary.”

“Thanks,” she smiled weakly. “But I really just want to be Hermione. I don’t want to have to spend my life hiding but I guess that was never in the cards for me.”

Fred frowned. It seemed terribly unfair that after all she had done, all she had given up, that this amazing witch thought she had to cloak this part of her. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t stand it was people being told to be something they weren’t.

“Be who you are Hermione. Powerfully, and unapologetically. I don’t care and I know the rest of us won’t. Anyone else is wholly inconsequential.”

“Yeah but-”

“You think too much,” Fred responded quickly. Before giving her a chance to think it over he leaned forward, capturing her lips in his. He felt his pulse skyrocket and his nearly depleted magic spike. To his endless surprise, rather than pull away she leaned into him. In a flash he felt the brush of her wings against his forehead and he sighed in contentment. 

When he broke the kiss regretfully she blinked at him in confusion. He smirked as her wings fluttered, shifting her curls in the breeze.

“I don’t… that was… what was that?”

“Whatever you want it to be,” he responded smoothly, leaning back into the grass. “If you want it to be the start of some great adventure let it. Otherwise we can both just lay back and enjoy the first night of spring.”

Hermione chewed her lip as she thought and Fred closed his eyes. His heart was hammering with a truth he didn’t want to consider, at least not until he had her answer.

He felt the grass shift next to him more than he heard it, displaced by her movement. The silence with which she moved was was otherworldly. But he didn't say a word as she tucked into his side, her breath puffing against his cheek.

“Fred?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad winter’s over.”

Fred cracked open his eye to find her staring at him. He smiled at her, placing a kiss on her forehead before glancing back up at the stars.

“Me too.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
